


Bleeding Out

by castledfranks



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Major Character Injury, The Hale Pack - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-18 02:06:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/874447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castledfranks/pseuds/castledfranks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone thought Derek was dead... until he stumbled into his loft and surprised them all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bleeding Out

**Author's Note:**

> Posted this on Tumblr earlier (as I do with all my works). Have wanted to do this since last Monday's episode but didn't have the willpower to do so. So it came tonight. Comments always welcome/appreciated.

It didn't feel right being here without Derek.

Peter and Cora had gathered everyone at the loft to talk strategy, but Scott knew it was really to say goodbye to Derek. He glanced around the room at the array of people that had shown up, some to mourn Derek, some to support those he left behind. He had a sneaky suspicion that even those who were here to comfort the others were feeling the loss themselves.

His eyes fell on Isaac. He was hanging back near the corner, perched on a barstool, biting his fingernails to the beds. His eyes were fixated on the tall wooden beam across the room, the same spot where he and Derek argued just last week. Every so often, he'd blink furiously, and Scott swore there were tears behind his tired eyes.

Boyd was standing next to Isaac in complete silence. His arms were crossed over his chest and he watched Peter and Cora intently, but never moved.

Allison and Lydia were sitting on the couch. Lydia was visibly shaken, and whether she cared to admit it or not, so was Allison. She kept rubbing the sides of her arms, hugging herself in the process, and Scott knew that was her nerves; the truth was, she felt for Derek, and was only now realizing how similar they were, wondering if she was the next one to spiral out of control. She'd been so reckless last year after her mom passed, her behavior not unlike Derek's recently. Scott was worried thoughts were flashing through her mind, thoughts of her on the same path Derek had unfortunately stumbled down.

Stiles was perched on the arm of the couch, his hand resting flat against Lydia's shoulder. His face was stoic, but Derek's death bothered him. Scott could hear it in the way his heart beat. Derek and Stiles always had this love/hate relationship, similar to the one that both Stiles and Scott shared with Jackson.

Peter and Cora were deep in conversation. Well, it was more of an argument over what to do next. With no clear leader, both Hale's were butting heads over how to handle the alphas. Cora wanted to go in, teeth bared and claws out, prompting an all-out war, while Peter opted for a meticulous strategy, one designed to minimize the home team body count. Scott was actually proud of the progress Peter had made; he'd really turned himself around these last few months, righting his wrongs and sticking to his promises. He hoped, for the sake of Derek's memory, that this wasn't an act.

Deaton was playing peacemaker, devil's advocate for both sides. He'd been pointing out the pros and cons of both approaches, deferring to Scott every so often.

But he wasn't listening. Scott merely stood in silence, his back pressed against the window with only sill beneath his behind to keep him from sliding to the floor. He was tired, broken. Derek's death had hit him harder than he ever imagined it would. Truth be told, he'd spent the summer wondering why Derek hadn't reached out to him, wishing he'd call on him for advice, for help. Since everything happened with Gerard and Scott telling Derek he wasn't his alpha, he never forgot the look on Derek's face. He'd hurt him, and Scott always thought it was because Derek wanted power when all he really wanted was a family.

He came to this realization way too late; now Derek was gone and it was his fault. Derek fell coming to his rescue, as he always did time after time, even though Scott continue to rejected his offer of pack. Derek never let that stop him though. He always came to Scott's aid, and Scott knew subconsciously he'd never be in trouble because Derek would always be there.

Not anymore.

"Scott? Scott!" Derek's voice rang in his ears and slowly, it became Peter's, bringing him back out his thoughts.

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah?" he said softly, standing upright.

Peter looked frustrated, and Scott could tell he missed something very important. "What do you think?"

He sighed and shrugged his shoulders, bravely turning his back on the crowd of people staring at him. He didn't want them looking at him, afraid they'd see straight into his aching soul.

Allison got to her feet and took a few step towards the center table. Her eyes lingered sadly on Scott's back for a moment longer before looking down at the floor plans to her apartment building. She gestured for Lydia, who joined her side. The two began talking in hushed tones.

The sound of the loft door creaked behind them. "Holy shit, Derek!" Stiles yelped, springing up from his perch but freezing in place. The entire group turned at once to see Derek stumbling in, collapsing in a heap on the floor as the door slammed shut behind him. He was an absolute mess; he was completely chewed up, looking like he went ten rounds with a chainsaw and lost. Blood stained his otherwise perfect face and gashes marred his sculpted arms and abs. He wasn't healing, but then again, it was a miracle he was alive at all.

Isaac and Boyd immediately ran to his side, helping Derek to his feet as best they could and carrying him over to the couch, where Lydia was busy moving pillows. Allison dashed to the kitchen to grab a bowl of warm water and as many clean dish rags she could find. She and Lydia began cleaning his wounds while Stiles removed his dirty boots and tore away what was left of his tee. Deaton rushed over to check him out; he never traveled without his vet bag. Cora, who was crying, began caressing his hair with trembling hands; it was all she could muster at the moment. Peter crouched beside him, his hand possessively resting over his injured nephew's arm, desperate for answers on how he escaped, how he survived.

Behind the crowd, Scott cleared his throat, and again, everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to face him. They cleared some space as he gingerly walked towards them, one painfully slow step at a time. He stopped when Derek opened his eyes and glanced up at him. Scott held his breath when he saw what was staring back at him: the eyes of a man defeated, of a man who had given up and was surviving because of pure, animal instinct and nothing else.

Scott dropped to his knees beside Peter and rested his head in Derek's lap. The room stilled as Scott wept, his sobs the only sound to be heard. Peter reluctantly put his hand on Scott's back and squeezed his far shoulder as Deaton made quick work to assess Derek's vitals.

"Everything is fine," he said quietly, drawing a glare from Cora. "Internally," he explained, pulling a bottle and a small threading needle from his bag. "I've got a vile of serum here that should start healing those wounds. I need to pick up a few things at the animal hospital, but he'll need some stitches for these deeper gashes along his chest and stomach while I'm gone."

"I'll do it," Allison replied almost instantly, taking the needle from his hand. He handed her a spool of thread and she licked the ends and carefully threaded it through the hole.

"Don't forget to sterilize it," Lydia chirped, her hand cradling Derek's feet. She'd removed his sock and wiped away the dried blood from his ankles.

Deaton gestured for Peter to join him at the door, where the two engaged in a quite yet heated discussion.

Meanwhile, the teens remained silent and continued their jobs as Scott continued to cry against Derek's immobile body.

Out of nowhere, and with what little strength he had left, Derek lifted his hand to Scott's head and ran it down his hair to his neck before coming to rest at his shoulder. He held him as best he could, not saying a word, just absorbing the sobs that wracked Scott's fragile frame.

Allison wiped a tear from her eye, then looked to Isaac, who placed one hand on Derek and wrapped the other arm around Boyd, who mimicked Isaac's response. Boyd glanced at Cora, who nodded and inhaled shakily before smiling across her brother at Lydia. She returned the smiled and rested her head against Stiles' chest. Peter had returned to Scott's side and once again placed an arm around him, this time resting his own over Derek's. He looked to Allison, who was ready to begin stitching Derek up and mouthed the words 'thank you.'

Allison nodded and kneeled beside Derek, thankful that the oversized couch gave her just enough room to wiggle in. She held his worried gaze for a moment, knew he was reluctant to let her work. She sighed, her steady hands falling to her lap. "Can you trust me just this once Derek?"

His brow creased and he turned his head ever-so-slightly to Scott, who upon feeling the motion, sat up straight and wiped his eyes. The alpha was looking for recognition, for Scott's approval, his advice. Wiping at his nose, Scott nodded, and Derek laid back once more to let Allison do her work.

As the needle pierced his skin, Derek squeezed his eyes shut, his whole body tensing beneath everyone's touch. Their gentle fingers reassured him as best they could, tried to make him comfortable. But it was Scott's voice whispering in his ear that was his saving grace.

"You're going to be okay Derek," the boy said, loud enough so only he could hear. "You have to be. You're my alpha."

Derek smiled weakly and found solace in the words he longed to hear for two years. "And you're mine."


End file.
